


Galatea

by dogpoet



Category: Smallville
Genre: Humor, M/M, mannequins, object cathexis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-04
Updated: 2006-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't like it was a blow-up doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Galatea

Clark hated Los Angeles. He almost didn't think it worth saving. Who would want to live on a fault line, anyway? People could be so dumb. Today was proof of that. The city was a shambles, looted and set on fire... Clark had been working for days, dashing here and there, rescuing movie directors and ungrateful producers, who offered to make him a star, even as they were being lifted from the very depths of hell.

He hated the place.

But his work was almost done. Then he could head to home sweet home. Good old Kansas. Clark took a deep, tired breath, and forced himself to dive into the rubble of the Beverly Center one more time. He thought he'd heard voices from somewhere on the ground floor.

Inside, it was dark and dusty. The constant shifting of debris was background noise easily tuned out. Clark was listening for voices, heartbeats, any sign of life. Nothing. He could have sworn... Determined, he surveyed the complex with his x-ray vision. There! A limb! He lifted beams and rebar and concrete, and made his way toward the body.

It must have been exhaustion messing with Clark's vision: there wasn't a body at all. Only a mannequin. Clark stared at it, oddly fascinated. It was pale and slim. Naked. A male mannequin, not anatomically correct, its scalp bare. Clark dusted it off.

Despite the destruction, the mannequin was intact. Perfect. Clark stood it up, and found it was just a few inches shorter than he was. He put his arm around it, hit with a sudden wave of empathy. The kind he used to get in toy stores when he saw the last teddy bear on a shelf. He couldn't just leave the mannequin there, alone, in ruins, waiting for the demolition crew to come and level the building. No, he wouldn't let that happen.

***

Since nothing showed up on the news, Clark thought he must have made a clean getaway. There were no ridiculous clips of him flying above Beverly Hills with his captive. Superman would have had a hard time living that one down.

Even though he was Superman, and had carried many people over long distances, it was hard flying a couple thousand miles with a mannequin in tow. It didn't hold on like a living person. It didn't conform to Clark's body. Clark was so afraid of damaging it that he flew slowly, very carefully holding the mannequin around the waist, protecting it from passing birds and airborne debris.

Finally, they arrived in Metropolis, where it was dark, and Clark was able to slip into his apartment undetected. Easier said than done with cargo almost his size, and fairly delicate. But the task was accomplished.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up," Clark said to the mannequin, standing it up in his bedroom.

After it was clean, Clark wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It didn't stand up very well, and it wasn't the kind of mannequin with posable limbs. There was a small fixture on its back that allowed it to be attached to a stand, but Clark didn't have a stand. He supposed, the best thing would be to put it in his bed. It seemed kind of lonely, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving it on the floor, among the dirty laundry, pizza boxes, and mate-less shoes.

Carefully, Clark tucked the mannequin in and climbed into bed next to it. He could see the headline now: Superman caught with blow-up doll! Well, thankfully, no one knew he was Superman, except his mom, and she'd stopped visiting what she called "the sty" long ago.

***

It was true, being Superman wasn't easy. There were constant calls for help; there was the job of maintaining the facade of Clark Kent, mild mannered journalist; there was the fighting of evil masterminds, especially the very tenacious Lex Luthor. It was all pretty exhausting. How many times did Lex have to concoct a deadly scheme? How many times would Superman have to save mankind from Lex's antics? Did the man never get tired of the same old thing, day after day? He was incorrigible.

Clark had just been sitting down to a pepperoni pizza when his Justice League secret pager watch had beeped at him. Code 3, which meant Lex Luthor. Code 1 was natural disaster, and Code 2 was war or similar attack. Great, Clark thought. The pizza was going to be cold by the time he got back. With a sigh, he closed the box, shoved it in the empty fridge, and went to his bedroom to get changed.

The mannequin watched him from the bed as he stripped and then donned his costume. There were no real eyes, of course, just the shape of them, formed into the pale plastic, but Clark still felt like he was being watched. _Checked out,_ truth be told. The thought made him pause in front of the mirror and examine his profile. It would have to do. Quickly, he adjusted his dick, fluffing it up a little in the costume. Then he took off, faster than a speeding bullet.

***

"About time," Wonder Woman snarked when Clark arrived 45 seconds later. She was dodging death rays, throwing punches at the air, so the beams would deflect off of her golden bracelets.

Clark ignored her and flew into the heart of the action. Lex was on the roof of Lexcorp Tower wielding a giant device that could send rays out at many angles at once. He was terrorizing the city with it! Windows were being smashed, cars were melting. General chaos reigned. Lex could get away with these things because he was paying people off at every level of government.

Clark did an aerial dance, drawing nearer to his nemesis. Of course, when he got within 20 feet, Lex's kryptonite ring kept him at bay. The guy had to have a storehouse of them! Clark sighed, and used his heat vision to melt the ring from afar. Lex screamed and abandoned the death ray machine. Clark knew the hand would heal in no time, but the whole thing was exasperating.

"Superman!" Lex said, gaining control of himself.

Clark floated near Lex, his cape fluttering in the night wind.

"Don't you ever learn?" Clark asked.

Lex lunged for the death ray, and Clark had to use his alien reflexes to leap on top of his enemy and pin him to the roof.

"Not a good idea, Luthor."

Despite his position, Lex looked pleased with himself. "That's what you think," Lex said, making no move to wiggle out of Clark's grasp.

Keeping Lex pinned, Clark trained his heat vision on the death ray, melting it. The others, he noted, had gone down to help bring order back to the neighborhood. Clark slowly released Lex. It was all so anti-climactic. Why was Lex so easy to defeat? Clark, of course, had the power to kill Lex any time he chose, but somehow, he could never bring himself to do it.

***

Back in his apartment, Clark peeled off his dirty costume and stepped into the shower. He was really horny, and he jerked off, trying to relieve a need somewhere deep within him. It had been a long time since he'd dated anyone. Being Superman wasn't as glamorous as everyone thought. Who, for instance, would think that Superman ate cold pizza for dinner, and never had time to clean his apartment.

Clark positioned the mannequin at an angle of repose on the couch. They sat together companionably while Clark ate.

"You know what you need," he said. "Clothes. It's kind of weird that we're sitting here, and you're naked." Not weird at all that he was talking to a mannequin, though, Clark thought.

***

"Smallville, you need to get laid. I'm not kidding around." Lois studied Clark through her new glasses. She wasn't used to them, and she spent much of the day peering at things first with the glasses, then without them. She did it now, lowering the frames. "Wow, you just got better looking! I should go without my glasses more often!"

With that, she pivoted and left the office.

She was right. Clark did need to get laid. He'd been having some strange thoughts about the mannequin. It was really smooth, and had nice abs. If only it could come alive. And magically grow a dick. The problem lay in the fact that the mannequin was naked. Could Clark help thinking about sex with the mannequin lying around naked all the time? Clothing was the solution.

After work that day, Clark stopped at the department store to get an outfit. The trouble was, he hadn't taken the mannequin's measurements. But it was about Lex's size, and Clark knew what size Lex wore. He'd spent a lot of time at the mansion, after all, and he'd noted Lex's sizes in case he ever decided to buy Lex clothing for Christmas.

That was when they were friends, of course.

They weren't friends anymore.

The store had some really nice black slacks on sale, and a burgundy shirt. Perfect! Clark bought them and took them home.

***

"Who are you going to kill out here?" Clark demanded, the arctic winds whipping snow against his face.

Lex laughed. "You, Superman. Why else do you think I lured you out here all alone, no Justice League to back you up."

They were standing outside an outpost in the middle of nowhere. An outpost, which had shown up on JLA radar because there were strange radioactive waves being emitted from it. Clark had been dispatched to investigate. This was his 'hood, after all. If he wasn't mistaken, the fortress was only a short distance away, though it was well-hidden from anyone but himself.

Lex pressed a button on his watch, and a sliding door opened on the side of the bunker. Immediately, Clark collapsed in agony, powerless against the green rocks that lay within the unit.

This was really it: how he was going to die. Clark recalled all the stories his rescuees had told him about near death experiences. But they had all told him how it felt to _survive._

Why did he even let Lex lure him into these situations? Why hadn't the League sent Diana, who could have flown her damn plane out here? Clark knew better, he really did. He knew Lex had it in for him, and him only. He should have pleaded conflict of interest, and let the rest of the League handle all Code 3s. But that would have been silly. Superman afraid of Lex Luthor? Ridiculous.

But the truth was that Clark always hesitated, always made mistakes, and always managed to have bad aim when it came to Lex.

That was why the bastard was still alive, watching Clark writhe in pain, in the snow, in the middle of nowhere, probably miles away from the Fortress. Clark tried to call out to the Fortress with his mind, but, oddly, he kept thinking about his mannequin at home, and how if Clark Kent disappeared, the police -- or worse: Lois -- would come and find it naked in his bed because he'd taken to undressing it at night and sleeping with his arm around it.

He was truly a lonely and pathetic man, and if he somehow survived after Lois discovered the mannequin, he would _never, ever, ever_ hear the end of it. Never. It was this thought (rather than the thought of saying sayonara to the universe) that gave Clark the strength to roll away from the bunker.

Before he could get far, however, Lex was on top of him, pinning him to the frozen ground.

"I won't let you go that easily, Superman." Lex hovered, his eyes blazing with fury, staring right into Clark's soul.

It was a scary thing, being the focus of Lex Luthor's attention.

Suddenly, there was a massive explosion of light and sound, and both Lex and Clark were hurled a hundred meters.

"What the fuck!" Lex exclaimed, staring toward the outpost, which was disintegrating before his eyes.

Clark felt the energy of the AI. The fortress must have been nearer than he'd thought. It had sensed his distress, and had rescued him in the only way it could.

A quick scan showed Clark that the meteor rocks had gone pale and were now harmless. He was about to take off for home, when he heard that familiar voice.

"How the hell am I going to get home. You ruined my SnoCat." Lex stood there, arms crossed, looking slightly ridiculous in his fluffy parka.

"That's your problem, Luthor."

"So you're going to leave me here? To die? I thought Superman never let anyone die if he could help it."

They stared at each other across the snow.

"Take me home," Lex commanded softly.

Clark closed the distance between them, and put an arm around Lex. Lex encircled Clark's torso in his bulky arms, and Clark took off. For home.

***

Clark might have saved Lex's life, but that didn't mean he had to be nice. He dropped Lex at the edge of the city. He could walk home for all Clark cared.

The last thing he saw was Lex angrily looking at the sky while tearing off his parka and throwing it on the ground.

***

The last thing Clark needed when he got home was Lois. But there she was, waiting outside his apartment, foot tapping impatiently. Clark had to zip over to a neighboring rooftop to change into an emergency "Clark" outfit, which meant he was more rumpled than usual when Lois finally caught sight of him.

"Haven't you ever heard of a cell phone, Smallville? I've been calling for hours. Where the hell were you?" She dropped her cigarette on the ground. "Onward. I need those disks with the CIA leak documents. Idiotic fact checker can't do her fucking job."

"Let me run up and get them for you. I'll be right back."

"I'm coming with you. I gotta pee like a motherfucker. Did I mentioned I've been waiting out here for hours?"

"Um..." Clark was powerless in the face of Hurricane Lois.

When they got up to the apartment, Clark noted that his bedroom door was closed. Good. He really didn't want Lois to discover his secret. Frantically, Clark searched the couch cushions for the disks. They were somewhere, he knew.

"What the fuck is this?" Lois' voice came from a distance, slightly muffled.

"Huh?" Clark yelled.

"You're kinkier than I thought, Smallville." Lois appeared in the living room. With her eagle eye, she found the disks immediately. They were next to the empty fruit bowl on the counter.

"Kinky?" Clark adjusted his glasses and tried to look clueless.

"Don't worry. I get it. He's hot." With that, she disappeared into the corridor.

"Huh," Clark said aloud, and went to close and lock his door. It was only as he was heading for the shower that he noticed his open bedroom door. His life was so over. Though Lois hadn't seemed particularly perturbed by the sight of the mannequin in the bed. What had she meant...?

Dead tired, Clark showered, then climbed in bed with his mannequin.

"I wish everyone were like you," he said. "You're not complicated. You don't try to kill me, you don't harass me, and you're kind of good looking."

Propped on his elbow, Clark let his eyes take in the smooth form of his new best friend. He ran his hand down the cool chest, then farther down where there was a missing part.

"It's really too bad."

Clark laid his head on a hard shoulder and fell asleep; it was his new routine.

***

Sometime in the night, Clark woke. He thought he'd heard a sound, or sensed a movement. His mannequin was gone!

"I'm flattered, Clark, but it was starting to worry me, this fascination of yours." Lex's voice in the darkness.

Clark sat up, seeking the source of the voice, and found Lex standing in the corner of the room by the closet. He'd removed the mannequin from the bed, and had stood it up against the wall.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?" Clark instinctively pulled the sheets up, covering as much of his naked body as possible.

"Clark, anyone in Robbery 101 could break into this place. You don't exactly have high security. And your address isn't a secret." Lex neared the bed, watching Clark carefully in the almost-darkness. "At first, I thought it was kind of cute, but you've had the thing for two months now."

"You've been watching me?" Clark tried to remember what other embarrassing things he'd done in the last two months. Not that anything could beat sleeping with a mannequin that looked oddly like one's ex-best-friend.

"When haven't I watched you?" Lex removed his jacket, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Lex, I -- "

"Sh."

A finger touched Clark's lips.

"I think there's something you and I need to do." The shirt fell to the floor, and Lex's hands went to work on his pants.

Clark could feel his heart beating so fast and so powerfully that his whole body swayed with each thump. He couldn't deny that the mannequin had reminded him of Lex. And he'd been _sleeping_ with it. He'd jerked off while lying next to it. But this was the real thing. A Lex who talked and schemed, and did terrible things. Not exactly the Lex he'd fallen in love with as a teenager, but as close as anyone could ever be.

Lex was naked and straddling Clark's body now. There was only a sheet between them. That was pretty much Clark's last conscious thought. His body took over because he was suddenly leaning in, making it easier for Lex to kiss him. His hands were on Lex's shoulders, feeling the smooth skin, warm and soft, not at all like the inadequate substitute he'd had in his bed for the last two months. Lex's hands were in Clark's hair, holding him in place during an exploration that was nothing if not thorough.

Clark felt himself falling, then landing on the pillows. Lex's weight settled on top of him, and Clark spread his legs accommodatingly. There was still kissing. It was never-ending. Just touching Lex, being close to him, was making Clark happy in a way he hadn't felt in years. He refused to think about the fact that Lex had tried to kill him more times than he could count.

Lex pulled back from the kiss to observe Clark's face as he slid the sheet down over Clark's stomach. Clark couldn't close his eyes, couldn't stop staring at this man whom he'd chased over half the globe. A man whose life he'd saved, and then spared, over and over again.

Finally, it was Lex who broke eye contact. He lowered his head and kissed Clark's jaw, then his neck, and his collarbone. Shoulders, breastbone, nipples. All the while, his hands were caressing Clark's arms and sides. Clark didn't know what to do. He wanted to touch Lex more, just _wanted_ more. He tugged at the sheet, trying to get it out of the way, but Lex's weight prevented him. Problem solver that he was, he grabbed Lex, flipped him onto his side, then kicked at the sheet until he could feel Lex's skin against his. Their bodies moved in a rhythm, cocks doing something akin to a dance, touching, rubbing, sliding against one another.

"You never wanted to kill me," Clark said suddenly. "Otherwise, you would've succeeded in doing it a long time ago." He rolled onto his back, stunned by the revelation. "I never wanted to kill you, either."

"I know."

"You know?"

"You've had so many chances," Lex whispered, kissing Clark again.

Clark closed his eyes as Lex began stroking his balls. No one had ever touched him like this. He felt his legs being guided apart, then Lex's finger was slipping between his cheeks, slick and curious, seeking until it found. Clark's hips lifted involuntarily. Lex shifted, moving between Clark's legs as he bent his head and bit the soft skin of his thigh, all while his finger kept up its explorations.

An ache that had begun somewhere in Clark's chest had spread through his whole body, and begged to be released. Lex took Clark's cock in hand and slipped it into his mouth. It was like every forbidden fantasy Clark had had as a teenager. He'd thought about Lex so much, but always guiltily -- there was so much stacked against them... Those things now seemed irrelevant. Lex liked to use his tongue to exert pressure, to flutter, to circle. He liked to make sounds, humming sounds. Clark could feel his body tensing in response to all of the sensory pleasures. Lex removed his finger from inside Clark and focussed all of his energy on sucking Clark off. Clark felt the shift, and his whole body uncoiled, releasing. His head was spinning, but he could feel the bed under him, solid and comforting.

And then he started floating, not much, just a few inches. He felt happy and light, and since Lex knew who he was, Clark didn't have to hide. When Clark tilted his head, he could see Lex's face -- it was filled with wonder, and an expression he'd never seen there before.

"Does this always happen to you afterwards?" Lex leaned forward and braced himself over Clark's floating body, kissing his chest softly.

"Sometimes."

With a slight whuff, Clark fell. Lex laughed. And then it was Clark's turn to be amazed. He hadn't seen Lex unguarded in a very long time. Taking advantage, he attacked Lex, rolling him over and pinning him down. "My turn," he said, and inched down until he was breathing in Lex's scent.

Lex thrust his hips slightly, as if to hurry Clark up. Clark felt kind of like teasing, so he kissed Lex's balls first, then sucked on them lightly. Lex spread his legs farther apart, and Clark licked at the place where leg met groin. Lex's skin was so pale and soft. It was strange being this close. Strange how easy it was to go from fighting over deathray guns to...

"I've been waiting ten years for this. You're killing me." Lex reached down and fisted his cock.

"Ten years?" Clark moved Lex's hand away and let his mouth do things it hadn't done since his summer on red K.

"Ten years," Lex repeated. "Ten really long years."

Lex tasted nice. Clark liked the feel of Lex's thighs under his hands. He liked the smell of Lex's skin. He couldn't remember why he'd kept lying to Lex. Why he'd let things snowball. Lex was breathing faster and faster, moving unconsciously under Clark's hands and mouth, until he came. Clark swallowed everything, feeling like his whole world view had shifted since Lex had arrived at his apartment.

If Clark had been thinking straight, he would have been suspicous of Lex's motives in showing up. He would have looked for Kryptonite. He would have seen his enemy, not the hot billionaire who had been the first to break his heart.

But he'd broken Lex's heart, too. That much was clear.

"I'm sorry," Clark said, taking Lex into his arms, and pulling the sheet over them.

"For what?"

"For everything."

Lex rested his head in the crook of Clark's neck. "Me, too."

They lay in silence for a while, drifting in and out of sleep. Finally, Lex lifted his head and pulled away.

"You want to explain that mannequin to me?"

Clark felt his face get hot. "Um. What do you want me to explain?"

"What you were thinking when you brought it home and put it in your bed."

"It reminded me of you."

"I can't decide if it's creepy or flattering," Lex said. "But I knew you missed me, even if you couldn't admit it."

"I didn't miss you."

"You kissed a mannequin that looked like me!"

There was no smart retort to that. Clark opted for changing the subject. "Are you going to keep trying to kill me?"

"I was never trying to kill you. I was trying to get your attention."

"Can't you ever take the direct approach?"

"Want to fuck me again? Tomorrow night. Same time, same place. How's that for direct?"


End file.
